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“Hmm…” he grumbles.
He stalks into his suite and places me on the bed before he goes to shut the door. The room is dark, but I can see as he comes back to bed.
He lies down beside me, then orders, “Turn on your side. Back to me.”
I do as I’m told, and when his arms wrap around me, and I feel his face press against the back of my neck, a wide smile spreads over my mouth.
I hear him take a deep breath before he lets it out slowly, then his body shudders. An intense energy pours from him, filling the air with tension.
“Are you okay?”
Not saying anything, he only nods.
Needing to hold him, I turn around, and wrapping my arms around his neck, I nudge him to tuck his face beneath my chin.
Brushing my hand over his hair, I press a kiss to his temple.
His arms tighten around me, and he presses closer to me.
I throw my leg over his and try to engulf him with my smaller body.
With one of my hands in his hair, I let the other gently brush up and down his back.
He shudders again, and I feel how the tension in his body eases a little.
He just needs to decompress from whatever hell he faced the past two weeks.
In the darkness, I become a safe space for him, and it makes a new emotion fill my chest.
It’s feral, an instinct to protect what’s mine.
I press another kiss to his temple and hold him as if he’s my most precious possession.
It takes almost an hour before the tension in the air fades away. Damiano presses a kiss to my throat, and lifting his head, his eyes meet mine.
I reach for the remote control on the bedside table and switch on the lights. After dimming them slightly, I set the remote down again.
My eyes lock on Damiano’s, and I say, “Let me look at you.”
“I’m fine,” he murmurs.
“Hmm…” I grumble at him.
My eyes flit over his chest, and when I don’t see any wounds, I look at his face.
Lifting my hand to his jaw, I say, “You must be so tired.”
He turns his head and presses a kiss to my palm, then his body pushes mine back as he crawls over me.
I have to open my legs to accommodate his hips, while my hands settle on either side of his neck.
For a moment, Damiano just lies down on top of me, his eyes drifting over my face with an emotion I haven’t seen before.
The look in his gaze finds an echo in my chest, and not wanting to disturb the moment, I whisper, “What are you thinking about?”
“You.”
The corners of my mouth lift slightly. “What about me?”
